If the Fates Allow
by MandaPanda2
Summary: In December 2007, Gregory sets out to reclaim all that he lost.
1. Where the Love Light Gleams

Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise specified) belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.  
Rating: PG 14  
Genre: Drama/Romance  
Spoilers: The whole series.  
Summary: In December 2007, Gregory sets out to reclaim all that he lost.

* * *

Chapter 1: "Where the Love Light Gleams" 

The cardboard fell onto the counter with a soft thud. "Your effects."

Gregory Richards nodded, brushing a thick layer of dust off the top. Seven years worth, he thought to himself as the tiny particles hung mystified in the harsh light. The top of the carton gave easily, revealing the items that languished in forgotten purgatory.

His "Tobias" costume. That ridiculous white lab coat and the cheerful red bowtie. How utterly unlike him. He supposed now that was part of the attraction when picking an identity. The cheerful and good-natured uncle of his childhood was the antithesis of the person he had grown into.

But in the end, not even the Tobias disguise could save him.

As he moved the costume aside, his hand brushed against a plastic bag. He pulled it free, instantly recognizing the items encased in it. A solid gold band that he couldn't help but keep in the pocket of "Tobias's" trousers. Never tarnished, ever strong. He fingered it gently before sliding it onto the fourth finger of his left hand.

With the ring familiarly weighing down his finger, he dove back into the thick plastic. The heavy watch rested in his palm, the white gold band offsetting the ivory face. He turned it over, angling it back so the etched writing caught the light.

_All my love always,  
Your Liv_

He recalled her quiet excitement when she handed him the package, nestling against him as he opened it and recited the inscription. It was Christmas 1979. When things were wonderful between them and each new day was a blessing to be shared together. Before things spun out of control and they both became people he could barely recognize.

He slipped the watch onto his wrist and fastened the clasp. How she failed to recognize the sentimental gift on "Tobias" he would never know. Or perhaps she hadn't cared. Yet as much as he repeated the latter reasoning to himself, he knew it simply wasn't true.

Regardless, these were his worldly items. Those that had been confiscated by the Department of Corrections upon his incarceration. And those that had been summarily returned to him at his release.

It was an early release, the judge had been quick to caution him. Not one that suggested any measure of innocence, but instead reflected on the prisoner's model behavior. Model behavior, he thought to himself as he closed the carton. In an overcrowded prison, anyone who kept quiet and to himself was a recipe for success.

He held the carton close to his chest as he followed the guard out of the dark prison. The warm sunshine was a lost luxury on his flesh as the wind whipped his hair. The chain link fence swung open and he stepped into freedom.

It had crossed his mind over the last seven years what this moment would be like. He hadn't imagined a brass band welcoming him back into the world, but he didn't imagine this.

Nothing.

The parking lot of the prison was a desolate place. A stale wind howled around him, eagerly accepting the harsh clang of the gate closing behind him. He was effectively stuck in no man's land. Not wanted anywhere.

Welcome home.

* * *

He couldn't sit still. 

After seven years of being told when to eat, sleep and blink, he was eager for the chance to excise his will. He left his room at The Resort with no destination in mind but the opportunity to reclaim his freedom.

He wandered down to the beach, taking in the ocean for a long moment. The roaring surf crashed into the shore, silver spray flying into the air. A salty freshness perfumed the air and he inhaled deeply. It was the scent of promise.

As the sun began to dip behind the horizon, he wandered through the town. The more years that passed, the more it all somehow managed to stay the same. The same traffic clogged Main Street. The same annoying teenagers huddled in clusters around the entrance of the Java Web. Grenadine's was where it always was and he couldn't help but think back.

"_You know, sometimes I say things and believe it or not, Olivia, I feel sorry for it afterwards."_

"_I know. Why do you think I put up with it?"_

They had both put up with a lot from each other, he thought, barely paying attention to his surroundings. Put up with a lot, shared a lot, destroyed a lot. The list of their joint wrongs and successes could go on forever.

It was funny. After seven years away from her, it was the good he found himself recalling rather than the bad. It was her smile that sustained him. It was the sound of his children's laughter that sent a wave of calm through him. The old pain and anger that had fueled his path to prison had subsided and was replaced by the sweet remembrance of yesterday.

Gregory glanced up as a pulse of familiarity washed over him. The lettering of the street sign caught the fading sunlight: Ocean Avenue. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down the palm-lined street. It was quiet, the way he had always known it to be.

Festive decorations covered the homes he had passed daily for years with nary a glance. Colorful lights glowed from behind the windows and thick wreaths hung on the doors. This walk down the street was sending him down memory lane. Christmas had always been her holiday. It was because of her enthusiasm for the spirit of the season that he could appreciate the carols, the warm glow of lights wrapped around the tree and the haven of togetherness she strove to create.

Caitlin and Sean had been enchanted by the wonder of it all as children. Laying beneath the tree and giggling as they stared up through the lit branches. The way their small feet thundered down the staircase Christmas morning. How they nestled sleepily against him as he read them tales of children eagerly awaiting Santa's visit.

The feeling of familiarity that had sent him down this path began to recede as the house numbers decreased. He passed Three Ocean Avenue and gazed steadily at its neighbor. Construction fencing circled the property, a gaping hole in the coastline.

A large sign advertised the land as the future location of the _Ocean Towers_, a monstrous building of luxury condominiums, judging by the artist's rendering. He couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. One Ocean Avenue was as destroyed as their family.

He allowed himself one more look, replacing the construction equipment with the home he remembered. Envisioning it so clearly in his mind seemed a cruel reminder of the way things were now.

A woman walking past with her dog stopped to follow Gregory's gaze. "It's such a shame," she sighed as her collie strained against the leash. "This used to be a quiet neighborhood. Now it feels like a war zone."

He nodded his understanding. "Do you know what happened to the people that used to own the property?" He had never managed to sell the house after they moved out. No one wanted the death of a child haunting their home. As if that sort of misfortune could transfer to the new owners. But he couldn't believe that she and the children would have it bulldozed. All of their memories, good and bad, were tied up in that house.

She shook her head. "No, we only moved in eighteen months ago." She looked pityingly at the construction site and muttered, "Damn AJ Deschanel."

"Deschanel?"

The dog walker grimaced. "He's got some brilliant plan to redesign the town. Bring it into the twenty-first century." She sighed and began to walk away. "If you ask me, it was just fine the way it was."

Gregory looked back up at the bulldozed property, noting the contractor's sign. _Deschanel Redevelopment Project_. "Everything _was_ fine," he agreed to himself before he turned away to begin the solitary walk back to the hotel.


	2. Every Mother's Child

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 2: "Every Mother's Child"

Gregory had been walking for forty minutes, the mid-morning sun raining down on him. He was nearly there, he noticed as a street sign came into view. Shore Circle. The address was embedded in his memory, taken from the report he had asked his lawyer to prepare.

It had surprised him that she remarried. He hadn't expected that.

A small child ran past, chased eagerly by a gang of his playmates. Choruses of "you can't catch me!" and "tag- you're it!" rang through the neighborhood. He smiled to himself, thinking back to the days when his own children raced through the house like that. Their earnest enthusiasm had inspired him in ways he had never imagined possible.

He could see her now as he walked down the street. It was a large home, standing majestically at the head of the cul-de-sac, the piece de resistance of the street. Overflowing flower baskets hung on the porch amid scores of decorations. Inflatable snowmen waved jovially from the lawn and a row of candy cane lined the walk. A collection of bikes, scooters and other toys littered the grass around the holiday ornaments.

Standing at the foot of the driveway, he watched as she unloaded large shopping bags from her SUV and carried them quickly in the house. Singsong voices drifted out of the backseat as the strain of a carol reached his ears. She rushed back out of the house, her long blonde hair flowing behind her. "I can't hear you," she called cheerfully, taking the last of the bags and closing the trunk.

The singing grew louder, more enthusiastic as she hurried up to the house and back out again. "Who wants chocolate covered pretzels?"

A series of eager shouts came back to her and Gregory took a deep breath before he began the walk up the driveway. She was kneeling into the back seat, unable to see his approach until he spoke. "Caitlin."

She looked up, surprise frozen on her face as she backed out of the car slowly, an infant nestled in her arms. "What are you doing here?" she asked softly as a pair of small boys jumped down and hid behind her legs.

"I came to see you," he replied, looking down at the boys in near matching outfits. "It's been a long time."

She narrowed her eyes and gestured to the boys. "Tate, Jack, please go inside."

They took off, racing each other to the house. He followed with his eyes until the front door slammed shut behind them. "How old are they?"

"Nearly four," she admitted, unable to hide her reluctance in answering.

"And this little one?" he asked, looking at the baby swathed in a pink knit blanket.

"Zara. She's five months old." She held the baby closer instinctively as he took a step to her.

"Your children are beautiful, Caitlin."

"It's just 'Cate' now, if you don't mind," she explained, wrinkling her nose at her former name.

He nodded as realization settled in the pit of his stomach. "I don't mind, _Cate_."

She glanced away, unable to hold his piercing gaze. "I didn't know you were being released so soon."

"Seven years is hardly 'soon'," he responded quietly.

"I suppose."

"Is that all you have to say after all this time?" he asked after several beats of silence. "I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Caitl-"

"No, Daddy. It's over. Done with."

"What's over?"

"The family and all the heartache that came with it. It's finished."

He slowly shook his head. "Family is never over, Cate. It's with you until the day you die."

"Yes," she insisted, "but not your family. _This_ is my family now. Justin and our children."

Caitlin laughed harshly, startling the infant awake. Zara blinked her brown eyes sleepily as her mother continued, "Wake up, Daddy. We're not a family now. Mom's gone, Sean has his own life. I've put all of it behind me and I've moved on."

"Put it behind you. Moved on," he repeated carefully. "But you've still got your resentment."

"You and Mom ruined my marriage," she hissed, pain burning her eyes. "Cole and I tried to get past it, but we just couldn't make it. You killed my child and because of your _sick_ plan, I can't have anymore. I will _never_ forgive you or Mom for that." She caught her breath, holding her hand to shield the baby's face from the sun.

"But, you've got your children, Cate. You've got the world in the palm of your hand."

She glared. "That still doesn't change what you and Mom did. I tried to forget, but I just can't."

"Is that why you sold our home to AJ Deschanel? To forget?"

She glanced up, her eyes shining with surprise. "Mom was gone, Sean was in law school and I wanted nothing to do with it. AJ made a generous offer."

"For the home that you were raised in? There's no price on your memories, Caitlin- even if you did want to forget about all of us and the little boy you raised as your own." He watched her stiffen as the color drained from her face. "What about Trey?" he asked softly.

"Trey," she repeated slowly, as if she was speaking a foreign language for the first time. Her face fell, regret clouding her blue eyes. "I haven't seen him in nearly six years."

Curiosity got the better of him and he asked before he could stop himself: "Where is he?"

"With Mom. They moved away- out of state," she clarified.

His mind worked, taking in the information. The investigator had deduced that much. "Where did they go?"

She shrugged, drawing the blanket tighter around Zara. "You'll have to ask Sean. Mom and I weren't exactly on speaking terms when she left."

He nodded and stepped closer, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder. "You're a mother now. You know what it's like to want to move heaven and Earth for you children. To want to give them the best of everything. To want to protect them from the things that would do them harm." He felt her shoulder tremble as he continued, "That's all your mother and I wanted for you and Sean."

"Sean and I never wanted the best or your protection." Her eyes fell to her daughter as she whispered, "You and Mom never understood that. All we needed were parents who weren't at each other's throats."

"Caity," he said softly, gently lifting her chin with her finger. The one that he devoted his life to pleasing. "Mistakes were made," he tried to explain. "I should know. I've had seven years to think about where things went wrong. And I realized that I could relive the past thousands of times in my mind, but it wouldn't matter."

"The past is the past. I can't change it anymore," he continued. "The one thing I can change is the future. Our future. My family. My family was the most precious treasure I had been blessed with and I lost it. You, Sean, your mother, Trey." His voice cracked and he cupped her face, not seeing the woman before him but the child she once was. "I had seven years without my family to know that I don't to endure another seven."

"No." She shook her head. "I can't get sucked into all of that again. I won't put my children through our family." She pushed his hand away gently. "Goodbye, Daddy."

Gregory watched her leave, his hand clutching the air where her chin was. He lowered his arm after the front door closed with a resounding thud. Twin faces peaked out from the break of the curtains in the front window. He waved slowly, smiling at the small waves he got in return until Caitlin drew the curtains closed.

A gust of wind blew across the cul-de-sac, rustling the holiday bells hanging from the mailbox. A memory of his own mother rushed into his conscious and he shivered, feeling her hand on his arm. A black and white movie about the appreciation of family flickered across their television set. She hugged him closer as the little girl uttered the memorable line about bells and angels wings.

Gregory turned away from the home, his hands deep in his pockets. This wasn't a film though. He really had lost it all. The family that he had fought for was gone, scattered with the four winds.


	3. Tidings of Comfort & Joy

(See first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Chapter 3: "Tidings of Comfort & Joy"

It was a small warehouse.

Gregory double-checked the address that the investigator provided and saw he was indeed in the right place. He shook his head. It was hardly the location he would choose for a law firm, but who could rationalize Generation Y?

He pushed through the double doors, tucking the paper with the address on it back into his pocket. The receptionist smiled and gestured him closer as she answered the phone cheerily: "Richards Law Center."

The strains of Christmas music drifted softly out of the small radio on the corner of her desk. He crossed his arms and glanced around, stepping closer to the wall. Framed articles and photographs were a pictorial representation of the small firm's successes.

He lingered on one of Sean, his arm victoriously raised with an older woman's. Reading the accompanying article, he learned that Sean successfully represented the retired woman after she was unjustly evicted. Further articles showed that Sean had become a champion of the downtrodden and forgotten.

He smirked, gazing at the boyish grin Sean emitted in another photo as he accepted a humanitarian award. It was the bleeding heart work he expected from him, but it made him no less proud of the career his son made for himself.

"Sorry," the receptionist gushed, ripping off her headset as she stood. "Christmas is a crazy time of year around here."

"That's alright," Gregory said as he turned around. "No rest for the weary."

She smiled. "That's exactly what Mr. Richards says."

"It's a good motto to live by."

"How can I help you today?"

Gregory gestured to the photo of his son and said, "I'm actually here to see him."

The receptionist nodded and looked down at the open appointment book as she asked, "Is Mr. Richards expecting you."

"No, but I'm quite sure he'll see me if you tell him I'm here."

"And you are?"

"Gregory Richards. His father."

She gasped and covered her mouth apologetically. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea! Just a moment," she promised as she put the headset back on and pressed a button on the phone. "Mr. Richards? Your father is here to see you." She looked up curiously at Gregory and turned, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. "Yes, your _father_." It was another moment before she turned back around and said, "Alright."

Gregory waited patiently as she removed the headset and tossed it on her desk. "Mr. Richards will be right out," she explained, picking up her coffee mug. "He's been very busy planning a series of free seminars to educate the public about the law and their rights."

He shook his head as she offered him a cup of coffee. "He does a lot of advocacy work?" he asked, turning back to the wall of accomplishments.

"Someone has to."

Gregory turned to the voice. "Sean."

"Dad."

His hair was shorter and darker than he remembered it. But it was him. Gregory took a tentative step closer, his hand extended. Sean considered it for a long moment, before reaching out. "It's been a long time," he said softly, grasping his son's hand tightly.

Sean nodded. "Yeah." He pulled his hand back and gestured behind him with his head. "Let's talk in my office."

The short walk down the hall was cloaked in silence. Gregory eyed the back of his son's head. He seemed taller somehow. Or perhaps it was that Sean wasn't the teenager he remembered. He was a man now.

His office was a section of the warehouse floor shaped by tall cubicle walls. He followed Sean in and sat in the chair he pulled out for him. "Sorry," Sean said as he cleared a trio of thick books from his desk. "I've been-"

"Planning lectures to teach people about their rights within the law." Gregory smiled as Sean nodded bashfully. "It's admirable work you're doing."

He shrugged, shoving the heavy volumes aside. "Like I said, someone has to." He tapped his fingers anxiously on the desk. "So…you're out?"

Gregory nodded. "The courts have deemed my debt to society paid."

"The courts have been more lenient in recent years," he explained. "Judicial power is expanding on a daily basis. Are you out on your merit or parole?"

"My own merit." He chuckled and leaned forward, never imagining a day when he and Sean would talk "shop" together. "What got you into the law?"

Shrugging seemed to be his favorite gesture, Gregory decided as he watched him. Sean leaned back in his chair and replied, "It seemed a good way to help people." He eyed his father for a long moment before he continued, "You might remember that."

"Hardly. I was a criminal defense attorney and-"

"You ate people like me for breakfast," Sean chuckled. "Yeah, _I_ remember that. But Mom always said that no one could argue the law better than you."

Gregory settled back in the chair, crossing his legs comfortably. "Well, we could argue for hours as to where that got me."

He glanced around the office, noting the requisite degrees propped atop the bookcase. Sunlight fell in through the window, glaring on the picture frames. He eyed one of Caitlin, her children and the man he presumed to be her husband. "I saw your sister this morning."

Sean exhaled deeply, imagining how the reunion went. Still, he asked, "How is Cate?"

"Oh, she was fine," Gregory mused, turning back to him, "until she saw me."

"I don't see her as much as I used to," Sean explained after several beats of silence. "She's busy with the kids and I'm busy here."

"But she's happy?"

Sean nodded. "Happier than I can ever remember her being. Tate and Jack are- let's just say they've got _a lot _of energy. I'm exhausted after an hour with them. But she loves it. She's a good mother."

"And her husband?"

"Justin's a good man. He makes her happy."

Gregory nodded, content that the new life his daughter created for herself was the one she wanted. "And you?"

"Me?" Sean chuckled. "Not much to say."

"You're happy?"

"About as happy as anyone can be. "I've got a job I'm proud of and a girlfriend I'm crazy about." He sighed, one of pleasant contentment.

"That's good." He sat straighter in the chair, meeting Sean's gaze. "Your sister thinks that we're irretrievably broken."

Sean frowned. "As people?"

"As a family."

It was another deep sigh from Sean that filled the silence. "She isn't," he began softly, "entirely wrong. Sophocles couldn't have written a more chaotic or volatile family."

"Some of the world's most beautiful creations were born of chaos," Gregory replied quietly.

The answer threw Sean. This wasn't the father he remembered. The father he remembered would've shouted his will and manipulated the situation until he got his way. The father he fought with and rebelled against. The father he once called a monster. But this was no monster that sat before him. This father was free from his heart of darkness and sat before him older, wiser.

Sean shook his head slowly. "It's too late. We've all moved on."

"Moved on," he repeated distastefully. "I'm beginning to loathe those two words." He sat forward urgently, resting his hands on the desk. "The type of law you practice, you believe in second chances."

"Dad-"

"You believe that a person can change."

"Dad!" His father may have been older and wiser, but no less determined to get what he wanted. "No amount of change can erase the pain of our past. It's- it's just too much."

"Were your mother and I _that_ terrible?"

Shaking his head regretfully, he answered slowly, "It wasn't necessarily that. It was you. It was Mom. Even Cate and I." He looked away, gazing into the distance. "People don't always end up in the right family. Parents or children."

Gregory nodded, recognizing the same confidence that Caitlin displayed with their decision. He felt the phantom wind breeze through the office, taking another child from him. "We just don't work," he heard Sean say.

He cleared his throat, speaking over numb lips. "And your mother?" Sean sat still before him as he continued, "I can't locate her. Caitl- Cate isn't in contact with her." He saw his son's visible reluctance and met his eyes. "I need to see her, Sean."

"Dad, leave it alone."

The quiet seriousness of Sean's tone gave Gregory pause and he narrowed his eyes in thought. This wasn't just Sean's refusal to accept his familial ties. It was something more. "Sean?"

"She's happy, Dad," he admitted reluctantly. "For the first time in a long time."

"You've seen her." A statement, not a question. When Sean nodded, he asked, "Where is she?"

Sean shook his head. "Don't do this, Dad. Not now. Not when her life is finally on track." _Without you _was the unspoken, words not dared to be voiced aloud.

"This isn't negotiable, Sean. One way or the other, I'll find her."

"She's engaged, Dad."

It was a sharp blow to the gut, one that froze his breath as his heart slowed to a stop. He watched in silence as Sean reached behind him for a pile of holiday greeting cards. He rifled through the stack until he came to the one he sought and pulled out a glossy 5x7. After hesitating a moment, he passed it to his father and turned away, not wishing to see the spark of defeat cloud his eyes.

It was an ordinary photo at first glance, Gregory thought as he took it from his son. It offered no clue as to where it was taken, only that they were somewhere cold, judging by the heavy coats they donned. Another man's arm was wrapped around her shoulders, hugging her close the way he once did. They flashed matching smiles at the camera, her dark hair framing rosy cheeks.

Next to _him_, a teenage girl he didn't recognize smiled sullenly, as if she had been coerced into posing for the picture.

If one of Olivia's arms wrapped around _his_ back, her other was protectively wrapped around the child in front of her. Trey grinned impishly at the camera, his eyes crossed playfully as he leaned against his mother.

But the message of the picture was clear: they looked like a family.

Gregory let out a long breath, unable to take his eyes off the woman and child that slipped through his fingers. "His name's Andrew," he heard Sean say. He sounded far away, barely an echo over the static in his ears. "He's a pediatric cardiologist. He's divorced. That's his daughter, Mia, with them," he continued, running through the short list of facts. "They've been dating for nearly three years. He proposed this past summer, but I don't think they've set a date yet. He was Tommy's basketball coach- that's how they met. He-"

"Tommy?"

Sean nodded, coming around the desk. "Mom hated the name Trey. She had it changed after Cate brought him back to her."

"_I would just like to name this baby after his father. I would like to name him Gregory. Gregory, Junior."_

As usual, fate had other plans for them, he thought.

"What does the jewel thief have to say about that?" he asked, unable to keep the disdain from creeping into his voice.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen Cole in years."

Gregory allowed himself one last look at the picture, memorizing the happy faces frozen in time. Trey's- no, _Tommy's_ toothless grin and the sweet innocence he exuded gave him pause. He gazed at Olivia's hand resting over Tommy's heart, the diamond solitaire winking in the camera's flash.

With a barely audible sigh, he passed the photo back to Sean and watched it too fall from his grasp. "I see," he said softly as Sean tucked the photo back into the card.

"Dad," Sean began and Gregory grimaced at the pity in his voice. He didn't want it.

"It's alright, Sean," he interrupted, standing up. "It's hardly fair to except your mother to be alone for the rest of her life."

"Yeah." He watched his father shove his hands deep in his pockets and seemingly wither before his eyes. It may not have been fair, but Sean saw that part of his father wished it so. "Where are you staying?" he asked. "Danielle and I have room if-"

Gregory shook his head. "I'm at The Resort for now."

"What about Christmas?"

"We'll see." He looked at Sean in quite wonder. The child he expected to be the least pleased with his return had turned out to be the one most accepting of it. It was something, he thought to himself. "I should be going," he said quietly. "I've kept you long enough."

"It's alright," Sean said, watching his father closely. He seemed older than when he arrived unexpectedly. For the first time, he noticed the predominant gray licking at his temples. He touched his arm lightly and grasped his hand. "Merry Christmas, Dad."

He wasn't expecting the handshake to segue into an embrace and it took him back when Sean's arms went around him. He smiled, strengthening the embrace as he whispered, "You too, Sean. Take care."

Sean watched him leave, a feeling of emptiness replacing the office. He turned to his desk, picking up the handset as he dialed a familiar number. "Cate?" he said after several moments. "It's me. We need to talk."


	4. Sleep in Heavenly Peace

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 4: "Sleep in Heavenly Peace"

Gregory wrapped his hand around the crystal tumbler, the amber colored liquid catching in the dim light of the bar. Soft piano music from The Resort's restaurant drifted through the air, the faint echoes reaching the barstool where he sat.

His mind was reeling as he replayed the events of the day. Two different children, two distinctly different reactions.

And, Olivia was engaged.

That much was the same, no matter which of his children gave him the news.

He sucked down a mouthful of scotch, willing the all the wretched truths of the day away. Caitlin hated him. Sean seemed forgiving, but did not believe he had changed. Trey was now Tommy. And, Olivia was engaged to a doctor.

Grimacing into his drink, he rubbed his eyes. It was gone, all gone. His family, and therefore his life, as he knew it, was destroyed. Their state of their home seemed a fitting analogy to the death of the family Richards.

"Here, here," he said to himself as he swallowed the remaining scotch.

"I never thought I'd see the day!"

Gregory slid the empty glass across the slick wood to the bartender. He would know that haughty and presumptuous voice anywhere.

He glanced over as AJ settled onto the stool next to him and threw him a satisfied smirk, smoothing the fabric of his suit coat. "And who says you don't get what you want for Christmas?" he asked.

"Only if you've been a good boy," Gregory muttered into his glass, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

He chuckled loudly, enthusiastically and dripping with confidence. "This beats all," he assured him, leaning closer to him. "You, alone, drowning your sorrows in alcohol. After everything you've done, it's quite fitting."

He groaned inwardly as AJ's overblown ego began to stifle the room. "Fitting?"

"All of your lying and manipulating finally caught up with you, didn't it?"

Gregory shrugged, rolling the thick-bottomed glass in his hand. AJ leaned closer, tauntingly. "Hardly seemed worth in the end. What do you have to show for it?"

"Not much," he admitted. "Though I see you've benefited from my absence."

A muscle in AJ's face twitched as his eyes darkened. "Don't flatter yourself," he growled.

"I think I will." He glanced over at AJ. "Do you think you ever would've gotten your hands on my home if I was still around?"

"It-"

"Go on," he interrupted. "Tell me all about it. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from the man who came up with this groundbreaking idea."

AJ faltered noticeably, opening and closing his mouth several times. "I-"

"Yes, you. It was incredible how you came up with this idea. Redesigning the waterfront. Rather similar to the idea I had for developing a new beachfront resort. You wanted my company. You wanted my wife." As AJ's eyes grew darker, he continued, "You wanted to be me."

"Well, the earthquake had other plans for you," AJ managed to say. "And, then you sent yourself up the river."

He shook his head, taking another sip of his scotch. "It beats never having an original idea in your life."

"I, however," AJ said, puffing his chest as he sat straighter, "will not be spending Christmas alone."

"A jewel thief for a son?" he asked with a deadly quietness. "That's not exactly something I would brag about."

"At least my children aren't embarrassed by me." The statement rested cruelly between them and Gregory turned to him slowly, his eyes hardened to icy slits. "Caitlin had to beg me to buy that home from her," he continued. "She wanted to forget you as quickly as she could. And Olivia? Olivia couldn't wait to move away from all her memories of you. You going to prison was the best thing for _everyone_."

"AJ!"

Both men turned to the admonishing voice. Bette crossed her arms as she glared at them. "What are you doing?"

"Bette, sweetheart-"

Gregory's chuckle sliced into the beginning of his explanation. "Sweetheart?" he asked, amusement clinging to his question. "Oh, this is too good."

"Gregory, don't start," she snapped, coming nearer.

He looked her over as she linked her arm through AJ's. The dark tailored pantsuit and pearl necklace she wore were decidedly un-Bette-like. More something that he expected to see on Olivia. "Bette, I'd ask you how you've been, but after seeing your company, I know."

She frowned as he turned back to his drink, chuckling. "Gregory," she sighed. "Don't be like that."

"Be like what?" he asked, swallowing the last of his scotch.

"Yes, darling. He's the way he has always been." He looked Gregory in the eye as he wrapped his arm around Bette. "Though probably less entitled."

"Entitled?" he scoffed. "This from the man who never worked a day in his life."

"Stop!" Bette exploded, tugging on AJ's arm. "Just stop. Please, we have reservations."

"Yes, we do," he agreed graciously, turning back to Gregory with a smirk. "You remember what it's like to have your wife remind you of those sort of things when you are at your busiest."

"AJ,_now_."

"Yes, AJ," Gregory repeated. "Better hurry along like mother says."

Bette turned to him, her eyes burning with fury. "Good night," she hissed, pulling AJ with her.

Gregory reached for her arm as she turned away. "Where is Olivia?" he asked, unable to let the moment slip between his fingers.

AJ and Bette turned back to him. "You've got some nerve," AJ began to argue. "After seven years, one would think you would've learned your lesson."

"Bette, please," he said softly.

"Groveling Gregory," AJ chuckled.

Bette sighed and shook her head. "No, Gregory." She began to turn away, but glanced over her shoulder. "Leave her alone."

Gregory watched them walk away, AJ's arm possessively wrapped around Bette. He reached into his pocket and slid several bills across the bar before slowly walking out.

* * *

"Yes, Richards. She may have gone back to her maiden name, so check for an Olivia Blake as well." Gregory hung up with the investigator and stood up. The tense muscles of his back groaned and his bones popped as he walked across the room to the balcony. A full moon illuminated the beach, glowing on the crest of the waves. 

He leaned against the door, his arms crossed tight across his chest. She was out there somewhere and he would find her eventually. Even if no one wanted him to. He sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. Nothing had gone as he had wanted it to since his release.

He shook his head. That had been his downfall, trying to correct the natural outcome of things. He didn't know when he began to accept things are they were. Probably the day he went to prison, he thought to himself as he heard a knock on the door.

Opening the hotel room door revealed Bette. He sighed and said, "What now?"

"We need to talk," she instructed as she pushed past him and into the room.

"By all means, come in," he muttered, closing the door firmly. "I'm surprised to see that AJ let you out of his sight."

Her face froze as she eyed him sharply. "There are some things I need to say to you," she snapped, pointing to the foot of the bed. "Sit."

He shook his head. "I'd rather not."

"Fine." She tossed her leather handbag onto the bed and turned back to him. "You've got a lot of nerve asking for Olivia after the way you pushed her away."

"Bette-"

"No! You don't get to talk now. You have to listen."

"You don't know what happened between Olivia and I."

"I don't know? Who do you think was there for her when you slammed the door in her face? She was devastated when you wouldn't see her."

"Bette," he said with quiet warning, "it was for the best."

"For the best?" she sputtered in disbelief. "The best thing for Olivia was not to have her heart stomped on. How could you do that to her?"

"How could I? I did the best thing for her by not subjecting her to the horror of that jail."

She smiled sadly. "When are you going to realize that you don't always know what's best for everyone?"

Gregory sighed. "It will please you to know that I already know that I've already come to that realization."

"No, you haven't," she insisted. "Otherwise, you would know that what you did to her was wrong."

"Do you think I wanted to turn her away?" he asked, the volume of his voice rising. "Don't you think I wanted to see her every day for seven miserable years? I know better now, but back then, it was the only choice I had. There was no way that I could make it through my sentence if I didn't cut everyone out."

"And now?" she asked.

He turned away, walking back to the door of the balcony. "I told you," he said softly, "I know better."

Bette shook her head and sighed. "Yes, I guess you do." The silence widened between them and she continued slowly, "Olivia wanted to feel wanted. She was terrified of the day when you, Caitlin and Sean wouldn't need her anymore and throw her away."

"I needed her too much to do that," Gregory admitted quietly. He turned back to her, sadness etched across his face. "I still do."

She sighed, reaching into her bag. The folded paper was thick in her hand as she held it out to him. "Don't make me regret this," she said softly as he took the paper from her. "I always liked you, Greggy."

"I'm touched," he deadpanned, taking her hand. "Thank you, Bette."

She squeezed his hand and whispered, "You have a merry Christmas."

A moment later, she was gone, closing the door softly behind her. He unfolded the paper, reading the address softly to himself. It was gold in his hand and he smiled to himself. "Tomorrow," he whispered aloud, leaning back on the bed and closing his heavy eyes. "Tomorrow."


	5. Once Again as in Olden Days

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 5: "Once Again as in Olden Days"

Gregory tossed the map onto the passenger seat and glanced out the window. The narrow road was deserted, lined on either side by thick brush. There was an occasional break in the foliage, denoting the entrance to a driveway.

It was the day before Christmas Eve and the radio stations were determined to play holiday songs round-the-clock. Apparently, overkill was not a term the station managers were familiar with. He glared at the dial, snapping it off as he heard the opening bars of another holiday song.

The road stretched on before him, seemingly endless. He stroked his chin, leaning his arm on the window. He had bought the radio station for Olivia after Sean was old enough for school. She felt useless at home, she had said. Rose took care of the house, the children were in school all day. No one needed her.

He sighed, rubbing his bleary eyes. Bette was right. It was the thing Olivia feared most- no one needing her. And he had done just that by pushing her away during his incarceration. If only he could've seen then that all he needed was her.

Braking gently, he slowed just enough to read the brass numbers on the brick light post at the entrance of the driveway. 10555. It wasn't hard to find her. She was the only "O. Richards" listed in the Water Mill directory. He couldn't help but feel a measure of satisfaction that she kept his name after all these years.

With a deep breath, he swung the car into the drive, tiny pebbles crunching beneath the tires. A cluster of tall pine trees gave way to a large, cedar shingled home with white trim. Sporadic patches of snow covered the grounds, the white a counterpoint to the green. He drove slowly, taking in the lumpy snowman standing in the center of the wide lawn. Nearby, a bright red sled waited forlornly to be taken for a ride.

He killed the engine and stepped out, breathing in deeply. Crisp air filled his lungs, perfumed with the contrary scents of pine and sea. The sky was bright white, the kind his own father always claimed was a harbinger of snow.

He strode across the driveway, carefully eyeing the black Jaguar parked directly in front of the home. It was a good sign, as was the smoke billowing out of the chimney. A rope of decorative lights snaked around the windows and outlined the red front door. He pulled off his gloves as he walked across the wrap-around porch, shoving them in his pockets. He brushed aside the thick garland encircling the door and pressed the bell, listening as chimes echoed from inside.

Gregory stepped back, locking his trembling hands together as he waited. After several moments of silence, he saw a blur of movement behind the door's glass inlay. The locks clicked and the door swung open. "Sorry," he heard her gush and he inhaled sharply as she appeared. "I was-"

He saw her eyes widen, her hand leap to her mouth as she gasped. She stared at him, not speaking as she leaned against the door for support. He looked her over, from the tips of her leather heels up to her sapphire eyes. She was just as he remembered, just as he dreamed all those lonely nights. Now was only superior because she was in the flesh. "Hello, Liv."

Olivia's hand fell slowly away from her mouth and settled at the base of her throat, twisting the strand of pearls that rested there. "Oh my god," she sighed, as she pushed away from the door and stepped onto the porch. She reached out, cupping his face tentatively to be sure he wouldn't disappear into mist.

Her palm warmed his cheek and he leaned into it, a gesture as second nature to him as breathing. He was home, he thought to himself as she moved closer and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Oh, Gregory," she sighed, her breath grazing his ear.

His arms went around her waist, holding her in place as he buried his face in her hair. The familiar scent of almond spice filled his conscious and he inhaled deeply, drinking her in.

She cupped his face within both her hands as she gazed up at him. Her eyes moved over his face, still searching to make sure he wasn't a figment. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her breath white puffs in the frigid weather.

"I came to wish you a merry Christmas."

She laughed in surprise, pealing music to his ears. "Oh," she sighed happily, hugging him once more before her hands slid down to grasp his. "You never could do anything ordinary, like sending a card."

He reached out, fingering a lock of her hair before his finger snaked down the side of her neck. "But this is so much better than an ordinary old card," he whispered, holding her gaze.

Olivia grinned, reaching for his hands again as she squeezed them. "Come inside," she insisted, pulling him to her. "We'll catch our deaths out here."

He followed her into the warmth, surrendering his coat to her. The large living room lay across from the foyer with majestic floor to ceiling windows that would flood the room with light on a sunny day. "Sit, sit," she insisted, directing him to a brown leather sofa.

He sat down, watching as she pushed rolls of wrapping paper aside. Two large piles of presents dwarfed the coffee table, one wrapped and one not. A brightly lit tree stood in the corner of the room, glowing against the windows. "Is this the same old sofa?" he asked, the leather giving familiarly beneath him.

She glanced up, the flush rising her in her neck as she nodded. "You always said I was sentimental."

"After seven years, Liv, sentimental sounds good."

She smiled and stood before him. "When did you get here? What can I get you?"

"I landed a few hours ago and drove straight here. And, coffee. The stronger, the better."

She turned to the bar, pouring him a generous cup full from the sterling silver pot. He watched her quietly, hiding a small smile behind his hand. She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if she were checking to make sure that he was still there. "When were you released?" she asked when she turned back around, holding a delicate cup out to him.

He waited until she was sitting in the well-stuffed armchair next to the sofa to answer. "Two days ago. It feels like an eternity though." The black coffee was rich down his throat, a comforting warmth that settled deep in the pit of his stomach.

"You've been busy?"

"I saw Caitlin and Sean."

Her eyebrow arched in surprise. "Did you?"

He leaned forward, setting the cup on the coffee table. "I did."

"How are they?" she asked softly, crossing one leg over the other.

He nodded, breaking into a grin. "They're wonderful. Caitlin- my god, you should see her, Liv. She's made us grandparents." Her face contorted and he immediately regretted what he said. "What happened between you two?" he asked quietly.

She sighed, shrinking back into the embrace of the armchair. "It was- oh, everything." She fingered the strand of pearls around her neck anxiously, giving Gregory a generous view of the diamond on her left hand. "After that Christmas, when the children came home, her marriage to Cole seemed to fall apart overnight. She blamed it on my…_past_ with Cole. She tried so hard to cope with it, but she couldn't."

"So, they decided to end it?"

"It was Caitlin's decision." Olivia sat up, leaning into the gap between them. "She flew down to Santo Domingo one day and had a divorce by the end of the week."

Gregory shook his head in disbelief. "She fought so hard to be with him," he sighed. "And for what? To throw it away in the end?"

"Some people just aren't meant to be."

"Like us?"

She looked up slowly, meeting his brown eyes with her blue ones. "That was never our problem. You know that," she said softly.

"What was?"

"Us. We were our own worst enemies."

He grasped her hand. She followed his gaze to where his thumb lay, dangerously close to her engagement ring. With painstaking slowness, she pulled her hand back, regretting the way his eyes pierced hers as she did.

The fireplace crackled in the silence, reverberating in the spacious room. Her gaze was steady, lying solely on him. He smiled gently, not ready to continue down that path. It was too soon for that. She still saw him the way he once was. So he said, "Sean. A lawyer."

They chuckled in unison, amused pride that only two parents could share. "You would have been so proud," she told him, beaming. "He's done so much good."

"I_am_ proud," he corrected.

She smiled wistfully, breaking his gaze to look pointedly at the table. "You've hardly touched your coffee."

He shrugged. "There's too much to discuss." He waited barely a moment before asking, "Where's Tommy?"

"Oh, he's at his friend-" She eyed him sharply, sitting up straighter as he stood. "You called him Tommy."

"Sean told me you changed his name." Framed photos were nestled amongst thick garland on the mantle and he picked one up. "What's he like?" he asked, looking down at the grinning face behind the glass.

She pushed herself up, slowly walking over to him. "He's very sweet. Very smart." She stood behind him as he slowly examined the other frames. Various stages of the boy's life were encased before him and he ate them up as she continued softly, "He loves animals. He can talk about them for hours."

Gregory began to glance over his shoulder, a reply on his lips when he saw it out of the corner of his eye. It was at the end of the mantle, the side he hadn't reached yet. He met Olivia's eyes briefly and watched them flicker anxiously to the photo. He turned back and reached for it, locking the antique frame tight within his grasp. "What's this?"

"A photo," she whispered, watching as he stared down at it. She grasped the mantle for support, visualizing the wheels turning in his head.

It was them, eight years younger. He remembered not wanting to take the picture, still irritated by her theatrics during the baptism. Caitlin had pled with him to take it, wanting one photo of Trey with his maternal grandparents. He tightened his grip on the frame, seeing the bewilderment in her eyes for the first time. The way she protectively held the baby to her. He should've seen it then. "Why is it here?" he asked, looking back to her.

Olivia inhaled sharply, looking through his eyes and into the core of his soul. "It's one of the only photos Tommy has of himself with his parents."

"His parents." He felt his heart increase, thundering against his rib cage as he saw the truth shine from the depths of her eyes. "He's…_mine_?"

She nodded and he exhaled deeply, turning back to the photo as his world spun. "How- what made you…?" Words died on his lips as his mind worked furiously.

She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked closer to the Christmas tree. "It was a few weeks after his second birthday." She winced at the memory of that late February day. "You had refused another one of my visits. Your lawyer wouldn't take my calls. I-"

She turned back to Gregory, who sank into the leather armchair and was following her with rapt attention. "I was sitting on the sofa, trying to figure out just when everything had gone so horribly wrong. I looked up and there was Tommy," she chuckled to herself, smiling at the memory. "He had pulled himself up and was holding onto the edge of the coffee table. He looked back at me with an expression that reminded me so much of you it took my breath away."

She walked closer to him, resting her hand on the back of the chair. "Everyone kept saying how much Tommy looked like Sean. But darling, don't you remember how everyone said Sean looked like _you_ when he was small?"

He nodded, looking down at the frame still clenched tight in his hand. His son. He sighed deeply, leaning back into the chair as his mind reeled and she continued, "The more I looked at him, the more I saw you. Your eyes, your chin, your smile. He was you. And it was selfish of me- why I had the third DNA test performed."

She came around the chair to sit on the coffee table before him. She touched his knee gently and waited until he looked up at her. "You cut me out. You made it clear you didn't want my visits." With pained eyes that glistened, she whispered, "You made it clear you didn't want _me_. Well, I still wanted you, damnit. I wanted some small piece of you for myself."

Gregory watched her shudder and blink her suspiciously shiny eyes. "So, I had him re-tested. And I waited in limbo for six weeks to find out that he was _ours_." She sighed and looked away, wiping her eyes. "And I couldn't tell you. I had no way to. You wouldn't see me. My letters came back, unopened. Your lawyers ignored me. And only then did I have to deal with the reality that I was raising our son alone. _Alone_. We were supposed to raise him together. Our second chance."

"_We're going to welcome you into the world, Gregory Richards, Junior. Your mother and I are going to love you, and each other, like we've never loved before."_

His words whispered from the depths of his memory as he watched her sniffle, shivering within her cashmere sweater. "And Caitlin's marriage just crumbled. For better or worse," she said quietly, watching the emotions playing across Gregory's face, "Cole loved Tommy. He was devastated by the results."

She sighed, remembering the way he stormed from the house after Tyus gently explained the definitive results of the third and final test. "It was only after AJ had the results confirmed by his own doctors that he believed. Caitlin wanted to rejoice and move on with their lives, and he couldn't. They divorced, he went back to Europe and we never saw him again."

A wave of silence rushed in, filling the space between them. The frame dug into his tight grip and he looked down at it. Tommy's rich brown eyes shot straight to his heart and the shocked muscles of his face gave way to a beam. His eyes were glued to the boy, _his son_. Theirs.

He reached for her, resting his hand lightly on her back. She shook beneath his touch, wiping her eyes as she turned back to him. "I've wanted to tell you for so long," she whispered as he took her hand.

He shook his head gently, hushing her words. "This is the best Christmas present you've ever given me," he said softly, rubbing her trembling hand between his. She managed a smile as he squeezed her hand. "I-" he faltered as she inched closer to him.

With the tentativeness of new lovers, she leaned against him and her head found its way to his shoulder. His arms enfolded her, hugging her close. "We have another son," he whispered in her ear.

Olivia chuckled softly as his hand rubbed her back comfortingly. "We always did," she pointed out, looking up into his eyes. "The truth was there, just waiting to come out."

"Nine years later," he said ruefully.

She cupped his face gently. "You'll make up for it." She wiped her cheeks dry and stood up, holding her hand out to him. "Come with me."

He followed her out of the room, only letting go of her hand to slip his coat on. "Where?"

The hem of her coat fell to her ankles and she held it closed, the car keys jingling in her hand as they walked out of the house. "To get our son," she said simply as she slid behind the polished wheel of the Jaguar.

He got into the car, smiling at the irony of being in the passenger seat. He had always done the driving when they were married. For good reason, he thought to himself as she pealed down the driveway and swung out onto the road. "I see your driving skills are about the same."

She groaned, glancing quickly at him out the corner of her eye. "Very funny," she sighed.

The black leather interior was butter soft beneath him. The charged engine hummed beneath the hood and he turned to her questioningly. "This doesn't seem like your type of car."

"It's not," she murmured, shifting into third. "It reminded me of you. Remember our trip to Carmel?"

"Ah, yes," he said, leaning back in the seat as the bay came into view. "You couldn't fly, so the Costa del Sol was out. That was Tommy's doing, come to think of it." He listened to the engine for a moment before asking, "Does Tommy know about me?"

"Of course he does." She turned into a gated driveway, following the curve of the pebbled road.

"What did you tell him?"

The Jaguar came to a stop in front of a home twice the size of hers. "I told him that you had to stay in California. That you loved him very much and that you would be with him if you could. And," she added softly, reaching for his hand and gripping it tightly, "that there was no place in the world you would rather be than with him." She gave his hand a final squeeze before she got out of the car, walking quickly across the driveway to the front door.

He watched her step into the home and he exhaled nervously. He had faced arrogant prosecutors and boards of multi-million dollar corporations, none of which struck an iota of fear in him. Yet, in this moment and about to face the child he prayed to be his, he felt nothing but cold nerves. It turned his stomach, when several minutes later the front door opened again and Olivia stepped out, holding his hand.

The nine year old was wearing a heavy coat that devoured his small frame as he neared the car. He watched Olivia stop a few feet from the car and bend down, talking to him. The little boy looked up, watching his mother's car curiously.

With a deep breath, Gregory opened the door and stood up, not feeling the icy gust that howled across the grounds. He glanced at Olivia, who smiled encouragingly as she rested her hand on their son's shoulder. Crouching down to his son's level, he heard Olivia say, "Tommy, this is your father." He looked up, searching the boy's innocent face as she continued, "Gregory, this is your son, Gregory Thomas Richards."

"Hi," the boy said bashfully, the cold tinging his cheeks red as he held out his gloved hand automatically. "You can call me Tommy."

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, taking the smaller hand within his. "Hello, Tommy."

"I don't remember you," Tommy said, moving away from his mother and closer to his father.

Gregory nodded. "I know," he said quietly, clinging to his hand. "And I'm sorry. But I remember you."

Tommy turned back to his mother, watching her intently. "Mommy, can he stay?"

"Of course, darling," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, after all."

The child nodded his approval and turned back to Gregory. "Do you want to come back to our house? You can see all my toys."

Gregory smiled, a wide grin that stretched across his face. "That would be great."

* * *

Night had fallen, bringing with it a light dusting of snow to Water Mill. The blue-gray sky saw fast moving clouds across the moonlit sky. Inside the living room of Olivia's home, the roaring fireplace added another layer of warmth. Gregory stood at the window, staring out into the night. "Gregory Thomas Richards," he whispered to the reflection in the window. 

He grinned and turned away. His son. He looked back at the eight-year-old photo of the three of them. A dream turned reality.

An insistent buzzing echoed in the room and he looked down at the coffee table. A small silver cell phone was vibrating across the glass surface and he picked it up, looking at the illuminated window. "Andrew," he read quietly.

He carefully put the phone down, hiding it beneath the leaves of an overflowing centerpiece as a pair of feet hurried down the stairs. "Hi!" Tommy exclaimed, clutching a pile of books. "I got my animals books for you to see!"

"Well, let's have a look," Gregory said as he sat on the sofa.

"Did you know," Tommy asked as he climbed up next to him, "that some fish eat rocks?"

"No, I didn't." He watched his son open one of the books and point to a page. "And polar bears really have black skin, but you can't see it because of all their white fur."

Gregory put his arm around the little boy and smiled when he rested against him. "You know a lot."

"I like animals. They're fun." He turned one of the pages, looking down at the wide-open mouth of an alligator. "Are you going to leave again?"

He looked down quickly into the wide brown eyes of his son. "Leave? No, I'm not leaving."

Tommy frowned. "Are you going to live here with me and Mommy?"

"Well…" He sighed, picking up the child and sitting him in his lap. "I know that you're probably confused right now. Can I tell you a secret?" The little boy nodded seriously and leaned in, knowing the importance of a secret. "I'm confused too."

He giggled and poked Gregory accusingly in the chest. "Big people don't get confused, silly."

"We do. I promise you."

"Promise?" Olivia asked as she walked into the room carrying a tray. "Promise what?"

"Nothing, Mommy!" he said quickly, winking covertly at Gregory. "We were looking at my animal books."

"I see," she said, setting the tray on the table.

Tommy jumped down from Gregory's lap and snatched up one of the holiday cookies from the platter. "Have one," he said, thrusting it at Gregory. "They're really good!"

Olivia chuckled and sat down next to Gregory, blowing gently on a mug of hot chocolate. They watched as Tommy kneeled next to the Christmas tree, the cuffs of his flannel pajamas dragging on the floor. A moment later, the sound of a toy train filled the silence and Tommy lay on the floor, watching the engine chug around the tree.

"He's…incredible," Gregory sighed, turning to her.

She tugged her leg beneath her, watching her son before she looked back at Gregory. "Isn't he? He reminds me so much of you."

He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as he said, "And you- you're like a completely different woman." She watched him quietly as he continued, "I can quite put my finger on what's changed."

"Well, I turned fifty a few years ago." She chuckled and took a ginger sip of the hot drink. "It gives you a whole new perspective on life."

"May I be so bold as to say you don't look it?"

She smiled wistfully and said, "You've still got it."

He cocked his head. "What?"

"The ability to lie to my face and make me believe it."

He leaned in, touching her cheek gently as he gazed into her seemingly bottomless blue eyes. "Liv," he began, only to be cut off by the ringing of the telephone.

"I should get that," she said, reluctantly pulling away from his touch.

He watched her walk across the room and pick up the phone, answering it with the same breathy voice he was used to hearing when it was him on the other end. She glanced up sharply, meeting his eyes once before she turned and walked into the hallway. He leaned back, straining to hear her whispered end of the conversation. "My cell phone? No, I must have misplaced it," he heard her say. He glanced pointedly at the leafy centerpiece as she continued, "How was your day?"

Gregory sat up, taking a powerful bite out of the cookie. He managed to forget about the fiancé, not wanting to bring it up. "No!" he heard her exclaim. "Don't come over tonight."

He frowned, leaning back into the embrace of the sofa. The implication, therefore, was that the fiancé did not live with her. "It's been a long day," he heard her explain. "I'll see you tomorrow." There was a brief moment of silence before he heard her again. "Yes, I love you too."

He looked up when she walked back into the room and asked, "Everything alright?"

She nodded and sat back next to him, though not as close as she was before. "Just a call," she murmured, looking once at their son before him.

He took her hand within his, fingering the classic solitaire gently as he asked, "Your fiancé is 'just a call'?"

She sighed, meeting his eyes. "I wasn't looking for it," she whispered as she pulled her hand from his grasp. "It just happened."

It was second nature to explain, to make him understand.

He watched her hands twitch in her lap, the diamond rolling between her fingers. "He's a good man," she said softly, her eyes downcast. "Under any other circumstance, you might like him."

Their voices were hushed, lest they raise the attention of the child still lying on the floor, engrossed with the toy train. "Do you love him?" he asked.

Her silence was her answer and he sighed. Of course she did. "Is he good to Tommy?"

She nodded as he raised her face slowly. "It's alright," he said softly as she sighed shakily. He drew her into his arms as she leaned against him.

"No, it's not," she sighed. "For us, it's never alright."

He rubbed her back as she tucked her head beneath his chin. "No," he agreed. "But for right now, watching our son together, it is."


	6. Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 6: "Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart"

A bright light woke Gregory and he opened his eyes slowly. He turned his head, recognizing the living room of Olivia's house. White sunlight fell in through the windows, indeed flooding the room with light. A heavy pressure rested on his chest and he looked down. Tommy was lying on top of him, breathing deeply.

He smiled, covering the boy with his arm and hugging him closer. A thick blanket rested over them and a soft pillow cushioned his head. He closed his eyes again as Tommy shifted and sighed in his sleep.

"I didn't want to wake you," he heard Olivia say softly and he looked up.

Her hand reached out, ruffling Tommy's dark brown hair as she continued in the barest of whispers, "I don't even know which of you fell asleep first. But you both looked so peaceful. I'm sorry you had to sleep in your clothes."

"Don't apologize. It was worth it."

She smiled down at him, leaning over the back of the sofa. "It's nearly nine. Do you want some coffee?"

"I want chocolate milk," a sleepy voice said, causing them both to look down.

"Alright," she chuckled as Tommy sat up, yawing widely. By blinking sleepily and with his sleep tousled head, he managed to look younger than his nine years.

He slid off Gregory and walked around the sofa where he wrapped his arms around his mother's waist. "With _lots_ of chocolate," he mumbled as she patted his back comfortingly.

"He's like you," Gregory said as he stood. "You were never a morning person."

"I'm still not," she groaned, squinting against the bright sunlight.

He chuckled, following them down the long hallway. When Tommy went in ahead of them, she turned to Gregory. He stopped abruptly, his hand grazing her hip as their faces danced together. "Do you think you want a hot shower first?"

He looked past her to where Tommy was kneeling on a stool and carefully peeling a clementine orange. He began to shake his head when she touched his arm gently. "He'll still be here when you come back down," she said softly.

She knew him too well, he realized as he met her eyes. "I know," he sighed. "I just can't get enough of him."

She smiled as he took her hand and they stood in the doorway watching Tommy. Her silk pajamas whistled as he drew her to him. His hand rested comfortably on her hip, seemingly like second nature. "Did you ever think," she asked softly, leaning against him, "that after everything we would be here? Right where we always wanted to be?"

"Until yesterday, Liv," he confessed, "I was facing the reality that there was no going back. And now there's Tommy."

The little boy looked up, as if he heard his name in their hushed whispers. "I'm hungry _now_," he giggled.

Olivia stepped away from his embrace, the warmth her body brought instantly dissipating. She smiled over at him and whispered, "Get your suitcase and go shower. We'll eat when you come back down."

He nodded, bowing to her will as she directed him up the stairs to the guest room. She was calling the shots and for the first time in their relationship, it wasn't so bad.

* * *

"See," Tommy explained, "Santa has to visit all the little children in one night. That's why he's got his sled. It's magic."

"Ahh," Gregory sighed over the rim of his mug, "I see."

"I'm on the good list this year. Santa said so."

"Of course you are," he stated. The kitchen glowed with warmth and he inched closer to the table, wrapping himself in the coziness of the conversation. Words flowed easily between them, as if they had done this every morning for the last seven years. He watched Olivia out the corner of his eye, wondering if she felt the same way. Her face was unreadable with steady eyes that gazed across the table and rested on their son. "What about your mother?"

Tommy frowned as Olivia's eyes flickered over to him. "Mommy?" he asked.

"Is she on the good list too?"

The little boy sighed, tapping his fingers against his chin in thought. "Yes!" he proclaimed after a beat of silence. "Mommy's on the good list." He turned to Gregory, his brown eyes wide as he said with a reassuring smile, "You are too, Daddy."

Daddy. The sweetest word he had ever heard. He smiled, ruffling his son's hair. "Well, that's good."

Tommy smiled and he paused, seeing himself in this boy. Yes, this boy was Richards, through and through. He felt Olivia's eyes on him and he turned slowly. She glanced away quickly, turning her attention to the coffee in front of her. He sat up, biting back a knowing grin as Tommy drifted away from the table and closer to the small television at the opposite end of the counter. "Olivia?"

She looked up, her eyes questioning as he continued, "You've barely said two words."

"You yourself said that I was never a morning person."

"That's taking the easy way out."

She smirked, pushing the paper away as she rested her elbows on the table. "And that means I'm just not trying hard enough?" she asked.

He shook his head. "That reasoning worked for my case, Liv. We're different." Her face turned, hardening as she continued to watch him. "What's bothering you…and don't lie," he ordered, "because I'll know."

"Why wouldn't you see me?" she asked bluntly. "I watch you with Tommy and I see all the years that you missed with him." _And with me _was left unsaid, he thought, shifting in the chair as she asked in a breaking whisper, "Why?"

He sighed, turning to her. "It was- a mistake. But, I couldn't do that to you. Put you through that prison."

"Same old Gregory," she sighed, regret clouding her eyes. "You always thought you had to do everything on your own. That you didn't need your family."

Her eyebrow arched gently and he slid into the chair next to her. He took her hand and squeezed it as he whispered, "You and the children were all I had. I couldn't have the prison touch you and taint the most precious gifts I had been blessed with. I couldn't have made it through my sentence otherwise. You and the children were the only things that kept me going for two thousand, five hundred and fifty five days."

She sighed, resting her elbows on the table as she leaned against it. "Why do we have so much regret?" She looked up slowly, brushing a lock of her dark hair back. "Why couldn't we have been this honest years ago?"

"You don't go through what we did and not come out wiser. Or, in my case," he confessed, "I had to lose it all to finally see what was in front of me all along."

"And now?" she asked softly.

"You tell me." He leaned closer, her lips a breath away as he said quietly, "I already know what I want for Chrismas."

"Hello! Olivia?"

She startled at the call, jumping away from him like he was the plague. Covering her mouth, she watched him quietly as Tommy turned away from the small television and shouted, "We're in here!"

"It's Andrew," she explained softly as she stood. Gregory followed, standing slowly as the other people from the photo walked into the kitchen. The fiancé was taller than he imagined, as he set a pink bakery box on the counter.

"I thought we would surprise you and Tommy with breakfast," he explained, his warm smile fading as he noticed Gregory by the table. "Are we interrupting?"

"Good call, Dad," Mia muttered as she rolled her eyes and pressed the earphones of her mp3 player into her ears.

Andrew ignored her sarcasm as he looked at Olivia. "We can come back…"

Gregory stood quietly, watching as she glanced from Tommy, to him and back to the fiancé. "Yes. No! I mean-," she faltered, coming around to stand next to him. She took a deep breath and explained, "This is Gregory."

The fiancé looked over, sizing him up as Olivia continued the story of finding him at her door yesterday. Dark eyes watched suspiciously as Tommy skipped over to Gregory and exclaimed, "This is my daddy, Andrew! He came for Christmas!"

He walked over to them, smiling down at the child. "Well, that's great, Tommy." He looked up at Gregory and held out his hand. "Andrew Chenowith."

"Gregory Richards." He met Olivia's nervous gaze over the fiancé's shoulder and flashed her a reassuring smile.

"I've…heard a lot about you."

"I'm sure," Gregory replied.

An uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen, save for Mia's soft hum that accompanied the music piped into her ears. Tommy looked around at the adults, sensing their discomfort. He frowned and tugged on his father's arm. "Daddy," he asked softly, "do you want to go look at my animal books some more?"

"Sure." He took his son's outstretched hand and followed him out of the kitchen. As they passed Olivia, he heard her suck in her breath and he reached out, his finger gently tracing a line on the back of her hand.

Olivia shivered, his touch sending a spark of electricity through her. She turned back to Andrew as their voices drifted away down the hall. "Did you know he was coming?" she heard him ask as she watched him over the rim of her mug.

"No," she explained. "I told you, he just appeared at the door."

"And he spent the night?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

She sighed, covering his hand with her own. "On the sofa, with Tommy."

Mia rolled her eyes and left the kitchen, muttering about "p.d.a.'s" as her father hugged Olivia. He kissed the side of her head and rubbed her back as he whispered in her ear, "I don't mean to put you through the inquisition. It's just- you don't know what I thought when Mia and I walked in here."

With a sad smile that barely made it to her lips, she offered a soft suggestion: "That he came back to reclaim his wife and child?"

"Something like that," he admitted. He hugged her close, preventing himself from seeing a wave of emotion ride across her face as she closed her eyes.

* * *

Tommy leaned against his father, nestling into his embrace. His father had a deep voice that covered him like a warm blanket as he read aloud. "Daddy?" he asked softly as Gregory's oration broke for a page turn. "How come you couldn't come to any of my birthday parties or basketball games?"

He looked down, meeting a pair of widely innocent brown eyes that sparkled with curiosity. "I had business that kept me in California," he said slowly after a long moment.

"Oh." He turned back to his book, staring quietly at the page.

Gregory closed the book and set it gently on the night table, drawing his son closer as he leaned back against the headboard. "It's not a very good answer, is it?"

"No." After a long moment, he asked in a small voice, "Was I a bad little boy?"

"Absolutely not!" Gregory said with such insistence that Tommy looked up and met his eyes. "You were not the reason I was away for so long. Do you understand?"

Tommy nodded slowly and his father sighed, ruffling his hair. "Did you know that I wanted to be with you every day while I was away? And that I thought about you all the time?" He hugged him closer and kissed the top of his head before whispering inaudibly, "You were my second chance, Gregory Thomas. You still are."

He cleared his throat, rubbing his son's arm as he continued, "I was away for a long time, but I promise that's going to change."

The child sighed and sat up slowly. "But Mommy's going to marry Andrew." He shook his head and explained softly, "There can't be two daddy's living here."

Gregory smiled at the simple logic and ruffled his son's dark brown hair. "You let me worry about that," he said, standing up to stretch his legs as he glanced down at his watch. They had been upstairs in the bedroom for over an hour. That was long enough, he decided. "Get dressed, Tommy," he said. "You can show me your basketball hoop."

"Ok!" Tommy grinned as he jumped off the bed and ran into his closet. "I'll be right down!"

He walked out of his son's room and down the hall to the head of the staircase. His hand rested on the banister as voices from the foyer drifted upwards.

"Mia is having an early dinner with her mother and Stephen," he heard Andrew say, "but we'll be over around seven."

"That's fine," he heard Olivia murmur and the holiday bells hanging from the doorknob jingled as the front door opened.

He came down the steps in time to witness the kiss that Andrew swept her up in. She broke away first, he noted. Her hands rested on his chest as he said, "Gregory coming back changes nothing. I think it is wonderful that he can finally be a part of Tommy's life."

Gregory watched as the fiancé cupped her face, his fingers brushing her cheekbone as he whispered, "You know that I love you."

She nodded and he continued, "After the pain of my divorce and your…_past_, you know that I wouldn't ask you to marry me if I wasn't sure that we could make it. That it wasn't for the best."

"Is that why people marry now?" Gregory heard her ask and he smirked. "Because it's for the best?"

"Well, no," Andrew admitted, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "But there are worse reasons."

The insistent sound of car horn interrupted them and Olivia stepped out of his embrace. "Mia awaits."

He kissed her quickly and she followed him out of the house. Gregory came down the staircase and leaned against the banister, waiting there when Olivia came back in. She closed the door behind her and turned to him, pulling the wool wrap tighter around her slender frame. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long." She walked past in him into the living room and he followed her. "But long enough to realize that you're not going to marry him."

She whirled around, her eyebrow arched in surprise. "Aren't I?"

"Not after that little scene I just saw. 'For the best'?" he scoffed as her glare darkened.

"After our past, 'for the best' doesn't sound so terrible."

He neared her, gazing at her with such intensity that she shivered. "But what does he make you feel, Liv?" He touched her shoulder, sweeping up to graze her jawbone. "Does he stop your heart beat with a look? Or take your breath away with a touch? Or enrage you with such fury that your blood boils?"

She pushed his hand away gently as she stepped away from his touch. "He doesn't make me cry," she said softly. "He doesn't make me wish that I had never given my heart away."

He watched her turn away and wander over to the window. "And I did?"

She sighed and lowered her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We could've been great. We had the world within our reach. And we_destroyed_ it. As great as we were, that's how hard we fell. It's the fall that killed us."

He stood behind her, his chest against her back as he grasped her shoulders. "We're still here. After everything." His breath grazed her ear, tickling it with its softness. "Don't marry him," he plead in a whisper.

"No," she gasped, pulling away with such force that he was left with a momentary feeling of incompleteness. "Don't."

"Liv-"

The pet name cut her deep and she crumbled. "No!"

He didn't realize that tears had filled her eyes until he saw them glisten on her eyelashes. He could never stand to see her cry, he thought as the tears twisted his heart within the confines of his chest. "You," she hissed with a waver that shook her voice, "don't get to ask that of me."

"You can't expect me to walk out that door and not ask," he said with a quietness that nearly broke her heart.

She smiled sadly as a pair of feet thundered down the stairs. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't," she said softly as Tommy ran over to them.

"I'm dressed and all ready!" he exclaimed, a basketball and another coat tucked under his arm. He narrowed his eyes, watching his mother's eyes suspiciously. "Are you crying, Mommy?"

Olivia shook her head as she sniffled and wiped her eyes. "No, darling. I sneezed." She smiled reassuringly and bent to kiss his head. "Not too long outside."

"I'm gonna show Daddy how I can play basketball."

Gregory took his coat from his son as Olivia said, "That sounds nice." She met his eyes when she stood as Tommy scampered to the door. "If you love me," she said in barely a whisper for his ears only, "you'll stop this."

"I need you like I need breath in my lungs," he confessed, grabbing her hand and squeezing it for emphasis. "Something I can't survive without it. How I managed seven years I'll never know." He sighed and continued in the softest of voices as a tear rolled down her cheek, "But I stopped for you once and I will again. Just tell me that you love him. Tell me that he's all you want for the rest of your life and I'll leave."

She sobbed, a reflex that choked low in her throat. "You can't do that!" she cried, emotion rising in her voice. "Tommy-"

"Is my son. He will always have a place in my life as I will in his. _Nothing_ will ever change that." He reached out, catching her tear on the tip of his finger. It burned his skin as her breath trailed away. "But you…tell me," he repeated.

She spun away from him, her hands covering her face as her shoulders shook. "It's not fair for you to come back now. Not when I had finally come to terms with the past…and you."

He watched her sink into the armchair and draw the dark shawl around her like the comforting embrace of a lover. "It took the desolation of prison to learn that no matter how hard we try, there are just some things beyond our control. Some things have a plan of their own." He shook his head regretfully as he watched her. "Some things we can't control- we have to just live them."

Tommy stomped his foot from the door. "Daddy!" he called as a whine crept into his voice. "Come on!"

"Coming, son." He allowed himself one last look at Olivia, sitting in the armchair and gazing forlornly into the fire. The flickering light played across her face, catching on her tear-stained cheeks. "Don't cry, kiddo," he said. "It's the nature of life. Something has to end in order for you to get your new beginning."

Gregory then turned to Tommy, who hopped from one foot to the other. Hope could still be found and savored, he realized as the excited grin of his son crossed the distance between them. "You ready for me?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah!"

Olivia turned to the door after it closed, hearing the rhythmic thump of the basketball as it hit the pebbled drive. With a shaky sigh, she collapsed against the back of the well-cushioned armchair. "Why?"


	7. And So, Happy Christmas

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 7: "And So, Happy Christmas"

It was with great reluctance that Gregory left their home. Tommy had been quiet, _too_ quiet as he said goodbye on the porch. Not even the promise of a visit on Christmas Day could rouse the child from his melancholy state.

Olivia had watched him silently with red-rimmed eyes that suggested an inner anguish raging within her. He met her eyes only once, a bottomless abyss of pain reflected in the blue. After a long moment, she had broken the gaze and followed their listless son into the home.

Gregory watched as the jeweler carefully manipulated the small plaque on the engraver's slab. It was one of the few stores still open this late on Christmas Eve, but it managed to have the one thing he was looking for.

"_Give me the one Christmas present I really want. Come home."_

He shook his head, tapping his finger on the surface of the glass counter. How much simpler it had been then. True, it had taken some time and convincing, but in the end, she did come home. For however briefly it had lasted. As soon as he got her back, she was gone again. This time for good.

He sighed as the jeweler turned around with the plaque affixed to the wood base. He nodded when he read the requested phrase and said, "Wrap it up."

Leaving the small store, Gregory encountered an empty street. Festive white lights stretched over the road, swinging gently in the breeze. He tucked the package under his arm and lowered his head against the stinging cold as he walked down the sidewalk. The interior of the rental car was warm and he sat there for a moment, looking at the twin presents on the passenger seat. One for each of them.

The roads were deserted and he was driving up Primrose Lane before he knew it. The winter darkness would afford him the cover he would need. With the packages in hand, he left the car on the road and walked up the driveway.

He would stop. He would do as she asked. He _could_ because he loved her as the sea was wide. Like the sea, it would never die.

They were all right, he thought as the pebbles crunched beneath his feet. It was too late. The world had passed him by. He just didn't realize it until now.

Except for Tommy. Tommy was still within his reach.

The well-lit house stood out like a beacon for the lost in the night. He crept past the windows and up to the porch. Lights glowed from behind the door and he found he couldn't face their warmth. Instead, he crouched low and placed the presents on the decorative bench.

When they were arranged, he stood and watched them for a moment. The shiny wrapping reflected the light from the windows, ensuring they would be noticed when the fiancé and his daughter arrived.

He backed off the porch and looked up at the house. He saw past the shingle exterior that was so pervasive in the Hamptons. The window pane dissipated and he imagined the delight on Tommy's face on Christmas morning. The feel of Olivia's hand on his knee as they watched their son rip into his gifts.

He sighed as the vision dissolved and the barrier that was the house reappeared. Snowy darkness surrounded him again, sucking away the warm light that shone so brightly in his reverie.

"Merry Christmas, Liv. Merry Christmas, Tommy," he whispered into the cold night before he turned to begin the solitary walk back down the driveway.

* * *

Despite the warmth of the bedroom, Olivia shivered. Quiet remembrance sang in her heart as she sat on the foot of the bed. Her blouse hung open, the deep red of the silk creating a fine counterpoint against the ivory flesh of her stomach and the black of her bra. 

She could still feel the pressure of Gregory's hand against hers. Flexing her hand, she gazed down at the engagement ring on her finger before she stood. She lifted the lid of the jewelry chest and removed the panel. In the hollow of the hidden compartment sat a small velvet covered box, all in its lonesome.

With gentle hands, she picked up the box and opened it carefully, treating it like the long lost treasure it was. The hinges groaned in the hush of the room as the ring inside the box glittered. The pear shaped diamond reveled in the light, rejuvenated by its rescue from purgatory.

She lifted it gently and rested it in the palm of her hand. She hadn't worn it in months, not since Andrew had replaced it with his own ring. Her fingers closed around Gregory's ring, sealing it in a protective embrace as she turned from jewelry chest.

The heft of the ring was familiar in her palm, as familiar as a lover's intimate caress. Gregory's touch, her heart whispered into the night.

Looking down at her left hand, Olivia admired the way Andrew's stone caught the light before slipping it off her fourth finger. It gave easily, unlike the painful battle she waged to pry Gregory's ring from her.

She glanced up sharply, as if searching for witnesses, before the lost ring reclaimed its position on her finger. With a sigh, she watched it carefully, nearly feeling the gold band tighten around her flesh.

Shivering, she did up the buttons of her blouse and tucked the hem into her skirt. She made her way to the window, pushing aside the gauzy curtain for an unobstructed look at the night. Everything was as it should be, as nature intended. The moon was high in the sky, nestled among a smattering of twinkling stars. Wisps of snow drifted down from the sky and she looked down as it fell, where she saw Gregory backing away from the house.

The breath caught low in her throat and she gripped the curtains, her knuckles turning white from the effort. He was looking through the downstairs window, staring intently at something on the other side. Her teeth caught the corner of her lip, holding it in a pearly grasp as she watched him turn away into the snow.

She turned away from the window before she knew it. Her feet thundered down the staircase, carrying her down the stairs to the foyer. She flung open the front door and stepped into the night. He was barely visible, walking away into the darkness as the snow enveloped him.

A glare caught her eye and she looked down. Two gifts wrapped in shiny paper sat on the bench by the door and she reached down, reading the tags. Her name in Gregory's hand jumped off the paper and she picked it up slowly. Wedging her finger into the flap, she ripped into the paper and opened the box.

Her breath ran shallow as she lifted the present out, the tissue crinkling as it released the gift. It was a glass statue, a carousel horse standing on a cherry wood base. She stared at the crystal figurine, her hand wrapping around the wood as Gregory's words whispered from the depths of her memory.

"_I think the carousel horse is fitting because we're finally getting our brass ring."_

Hot tears burned at her eyes, her finger tracing the engraved lettering of the plaque. "To finally getting your brass ring," she read from the plaque.

A knot materialized in her throat, the words imprinted themselves in her mind. The empty box slipped from her grasp as she clutched the carousel horse to her. Her heart swelled, expanding painfully in her chest. A tortured sob escaped her lips and she looked up wildly. He was gone, replaced by a thick blanket of snow.

"Gregory!" The carousel horse fell into the safety of the cushioned box as she ran down the porch steps and out onto the driveway. A gust of wind blew through her thin silk blouse but she barely felt it as she ran down the pebbled drive. "Gregory, wait!"

As Gregory neared the road, he turned. The wind howled down the driveway like a tunnel, carrying fragments of her shouts with it. He squinted into the darkness, hearing his name on the wind. A figure was running towards him and as it got closer, he saw it was Olivia.

She bisected the curtain of snow, the heaven sent powder clinging to her dark hair. Her chest heaved, her face flushed rosy as she stopped before him. She was, in the simplest of descriptions, an angel come to life.

"Gregory," she gasped, reaching for his hand. "Don't."

"Olivia, what are you doing?"

She exhaled deeply, her throat working as squeezed his hand. "Don't go."

He eyed her sharply and stepped closer to her. "You're not wearing a coat."

She glanced down, feeling the shivering cold for the first time. His heavy coat was off and around her shoulders in the blink of an eye. "Did you hear what I said?" she asked softly as he pulled the coat around her.

"I did." His jaw set and watched her carefully as he continued, "You'll have to forgive me when I decline. Christmas dinner with you and your fiancé was not exactly what I had in mind for us."

Her eyes fell and the toe of her heels poked the pebbled ground. "I wasn't speaking about dinner." The groaning cold filled the silence between them as she looked back up at him. She shivered within the coat and took comfort from the lingering scent of his cologne on the fabric. "Stay…forever."

He froze, watching her with guarded eyes. "What are you saying?" he asked carefully.

"It," she said with a sigh, "hurts too much." She clasped her hands together against her chest, resting over her heart. "I don't want you to go. Stay," she said simply.

"If this is because of Tommy-"

"This isn't because of Tommy," she interrupted, squeezing his hand insistently. "It's you and I." Her words came faster, tumbling out of her mouth in a steady stream. "I have been in love with you for the better part of my adult life. You are the father of my children. There is no one in this world that can make me feel all that you do." She shook her head, working out all the arguments in her head. "I don't know what tomorrow will bring. And there's Andrew…but I just know that I can't imagine another day, another seven years without you by my side." She sighed, feigning a helpless shrug as her words died and he covered her trembling hands with his. "Please, don't leave."

He cupped her face, looking deep into her eyes. "Liv," he began, his voice thick with emotion. She reached for his face, drawing him to her and silencing him with her mouth. He sighed against her lips, wrapping his arms around her as the snow swirled and fell around them. Seven years worth of unrequited passion materialized in the kiss as Olivia pressed herself closer.

He gripped her tighter, sharing air as their mouths melded together. Eternity was a dawn on the horizon and within their grasp. Gregory broke away, crushing her to him as she planted the softest of kisses on his neck. She smiled up at him, telling him in a whisper, "The brass ring is ours."

He grinned, a sight that few would believe possible, as he kissed her once more. "Finally."

She wrapped her arms around him as they walked back up the driveway. "What were you thinking?" he asked, holding her close as they made their way through the snow. "Running through the snow like that without a coat?"

With a small giggle, she looked up and reached for his face. "I was thinking of you."

He smiled, the light from the house allowing him to see the diamond she wore. He took her hand gently, fingering the ring he gave her over thirty years ago. "Where did this come from?" he asked softly.

"Oh." Olivia smiled as he rubbed her hand. "It's back where it belongs."

He reached for her again, unwilling to let her go for too long when a pair of feet ran out onto the porch. "Daddy!" Tommy shouted as he ran over to them. He threw himself into Gregory's outstretched arms and hugged him tight. "You came back!"

Gregory sighed, picking the small child up and squeezing him tight. "Of course I did."

"Never leave again. Promise?" Tommy asked.

He heard Olivia inhale and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I promise," he said as Tommy hugged him again.

"Home to stay," Olivia whispered as she leaned against him.

Home, he thought as he followed her into the house. What a feeling.

The phone was ringing and Olivia left them to answer it as Tommy and Gregory brought in the gifts from by the door. "Hello?" There was a brief pause before she exclaimed, "Sean!" She turned to Gregory and Tommy, smiling broadly as she continued, "Oh, merry Christmas to you too."

Tommy looked up at his father and tugged his arm. "Do you think Santa will bring your presents here tonight?"

Gregory crouched next to him, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I already got what I wanted."

"Who's there?" Olivia asked into the phone and Gregory stood, moving closer to her. "Caitlin?" She looked up with tears in her eyes and reached for his hand. "Oh, Caity," she sighed, squeezing Gregory's hand as she angled the phone for him to hear. "It's so good to hear your voice."

"It's good to hear your voice too," Caitlin replied, her voice crackling out of the handset. "I just wanted to wish you and Daddy a merry Christmas. Is he there?"

"I'm here, Caity." Olivia leaned against him as they shared the phone. "We both are."

Tommy stood solemnly before them, watching his teary-eyed parents huddling over the phone. Outside, the snow swirled in the winter night. Tomorrow, everything would be covered in white as he checked for the fruit of Santa's visit. And for right now, there was a roaring fire in the hearth. He grinned broadly, watching as his father kissed his mother's forehead.

All was well.

Infinitely well.


	8. EPILOGUE: Live in Peace Again

_**A/N: Thank you all very much for reading and reviewing this story. **_

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Epilogue: "Live in Peace Again"

_One year later_

Olivia wrapped her hand around her mug, silently appreciating the heated floor as the cold drifted in through the windowpane. She laughed aloud, watching the scene unfolding on her back lawn. Three grown men and three children were wildly throwing snowballs at one and other. It was hard to tell who was having more fun.

She turned, hearing the patter of feet behind her. "You're up early."

Caitlin groaned, hiking Zara up on her hip. "Between this angel and the noise outside, it was hard to sleep." She grinned though, settling into the armchair across from her mother. "You're up too."

She shrugged and took a sip from her mug. "Too many reasons to be awake." She gestured with her head back to the kitchen. "There's plenty of coffee. Help yourself."

"With my boys, I have to." She looked past her mother to the windows of the sunroom as she began manipulating Zara into her snowsuit. "Are they all out there?"

Olivia chuckled. "Oh yes. The lot of them."

Caitlin sighed in mock embarrassment. "All of them acting as old as Jack and Tate, I'm sure."

"Of course. And having a grand time." She watched Zara, nestled comfortably in Caitlin's lap. "I remember you were such a quiet baby in the morning."

She looked down at her daughter, who was babbling incoherently to the penguins on her scarf. "If only she stayed this way all day. Little Zara definitely has her fair share of moments, doesn't she?" she pointed out, playfully tweaking the toddler's stomach. The baby laughed, revealing the existence of four tiny pearly white teeth.

"Don't we all?" Olivia murmured, smiling at her daughter and granddaughter.

Caitlin looked up sharply. "Mom," she began slowly, "can you ever forgive me? For everything?"

Olivia set her coffee aside and reached for her daughter's hand. Grasping it gently, she replied softly, "Only if you can forgive _me_ for everything."

With Zara between them, they embraced. Caitlin's back shuddered beneath her hand and she kissed her cheek tenderly. "Don't cry," Olivia whispered, her own voice breaking. "It's Christmas."

Caitlin chuckled, wiping her eyes as she sat back. "You too then, Mom."

Wiping her own eyes, she nodded. "That seems fair."

They smiled, holding onto the other's hand as if it were a lifeline. Zara gave her approval in a loud shriek, one that could cut glass if the opportunity arose. "I remember _that_ too," Olivia deadpanned, rubbing her ear lobe.

Caitlin grinned as the baby clapped her mitten-clad hands together as a door closed. Rosy cheeks and hair wet with snow gave way to Gregory. "Hi Daddy," Caitlin said she stood with her daughter in her arms.

Olivia turned and smiled at her husband, who stood quietly in the doorway. "Good morning, Caitlin," he said, kissing her forehead. "It's cold out there."

"I know." She flashed him a smile as she wrapped a thick scarf around her neck and buttoned her shearling coat. "But, I can't wait to see Zara's reaction to the snow."

"Well, there's plenty of it," he called after her as he sat on the sofa next to Olivia, accepting her soft kiss.

She snuggled next to him, breathing in deeply as he wrapped his arm around her. "You smell like the cold," she whispered, laying her head against him.

He chuckled, a rumble deep in his chest, as he looked down at her. "Imagine that," he said softly.

"Yes, imagine that," she repeated with a smile as she buried herself deeper in his embrace. She patted his chest and looked up at him. "Can you believe they're all here for Christmas?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"Neither can I. It still feels like a dream."

He rubbed her arm as he rested his chin on her head. "Dreams don't last forever though. We wake up."

She sighed, watching her family frolicking in the snow. A warm feeling bubbled up from her middle and caused her heart to swell. "We're so lucky," she said, sitting up with his arm still around her. "After everything, we got that one last chance. How many people can say that?"

"Not many," he sighed as he looked over at her. "We must have done something right to deserve it, Mrs. Richards." She smirked, her eyebrow arched and he asked innocently, "What?"

"You keep saying that like it's on the verge of extinction."

His head tilted as he considered her words. "Well," he said after a long moment, "maybe it's because I like the sound of it."

"Do you now?" she asked softly as she inched closer to him. Her lips brushed against his, born on a sigh. He nodded as their mouths waltzed together. It was an intimate dance that they had perfected over the years. She smiled when they broke apart, hugging him tight as they watched their children outside. "I like the sound of it too."

* * *

Gregory stood, gently tapping his fork against a crystal water goblet. Nine faces looked back at him, caught in the flames of the taper candles. "Just a word." 

"Come on, Dad. Lawyers never have just _one_ word," Sean deadpanned.

He smiled from the head of the table as soft laughter rippled across the table. "Touché, Sean. I hope you will all allow me a _few_ words." He looked to his oldest son, who nodded his deference. "What a difference a year makes," he said simply. "One year ago, I stood outside this house, convinced that I had lost everything."

He shook his head to correct himself, watching Caitlin, Justin and their twin sons on his left. "I'm not talking about money, a law practice or any business. Take it away." His jaw set, his eyes sweeping over Tommy, Danielle and Sean on his right. "Take it all and what I'm left with is the most valuable gift a person can be blessed with: a family. In this lifetime," he continued, "it is the people you love that you can't live without. _They_ make life worth living."

Faltering, he watched the candle's flame for a long moment. "I told your mother one Christmas, long ago, that miracles do happen," he explained quietly. Looking across the table, he saw Olivia at the opposite end. Her eyes exuded loving warmth and he found encouragement in it. He smiled once at her before he looked back at the rest of the table. "Looking around this table proves again that miracles are still possible. Families endure and I am very glad to share this Christmas with you all."

"Here, here," Tommy piped up, lifting his water glass.

Gregory smiled affectionately at his youngest child as the rest of the table stood, glasses raised. The crystal clinked together, with smiling faces that took a voice in Olivia's toast. "Happy Christmas to us all, for this and many years to come."

THE END

* * *

_A/N --The following songs were used as inspiration for the story and chapter titles: "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" (story and chapter 5), "I'll Be Home for Christmas" (chapter 1), "The Christmas Song" (chapter 2), "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (chapter 3), "Silent Night" (chapter 4), "Last Christmas" (chapter 6), "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" (chapter 7), and "Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy" (epilogue). _


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